Shelters From Ourselves
by Szki
Summary: When she slips out of a bed, Sasuke doesn't look at her. His back is facing her, his face turned to the wall, eyes tightly closed. The smell of watermelons lingers some more, before it too, fades away.


Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>Shelters from ourselves<p>

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><p>When she slips out of a bed, Sasuke doesn't look at her. His back is facing her, his face turned to the wall, eyes tightly closed. It's dark in the room for the blue curtains are covering his windows. He pretends he's asleep, ignoring the rustle she makes while gathering her clothes (the same ones he ripped apart last night, as they struggled to free each other of needless items) and sharp breathing. His heart snaps as she lets out a quiet sob, the one she didn't succeed in suppressing and he fights the urge to swallow.<p>

Footsteps are becoming louder, as her delicate hands pull the covers, putting the side of bed in which she slept in order. He pushes away the memory of throwing her on the same side multiple times, holding her arms above her, nipping at her skin. It smells like her. The side, the covers, the room. He must smell like her as well. Faint smell of cherries, spring and, what, watermelons maybe? It's always good before they get up, always good when it's dark. He _hates _it when the morning comes. That's when he feels guilty and he doesn't like not knowing what he's guilty for.

"I know you are awake," a hesitant, tired voice comes from somewhere behind him and his shoulders go rigid. He knows that she knows. She's only making it harder voicing it like that. Why does she have to torture him the way she does?

Sasuke grits his teeth.

"It meant nothing," he says bitterly, repeating the line she's heard so many times by now.

His heart snaps again, and he hears more rustles, footsteps, then slamming of a door.

The smell of watermelons lingers some more, before it too, fades away.

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><p>"Where were you last night?" Ino asked in demanding voice, as soon as Sakura entered her office in the hospital.<p>

She blinked tiredly, taking the coffee her friend offered to her, and sat down beside the blond.

"Home," she answered bluntly, her heart beating loudly under Ino's hard gaze, as if the blond knew something she wasn't supposed to. "Why?" Sakura added, in the lighter tone.

"I dropped by your apartment last night and after twenty minutes of knocking I gave up," Ino said, her eyebrows lifted, waiting.

Sakura swallowed, licking her dry lips.

"Maybe I didn't hear you," she replied, avoiding Ino's gaze and trying to find the notes she's been writing for the past three months. Her insides were jumping. Has Ino found out? Could she see? Do other people know as well? She gripped the hem of her skirt and wondered if her best friend could tell there was something different about her.

"Maybe," Ino nodded, taking a sip from her own cup. Then she shifted, and stared at Sakura as if she saw her for the first time.

The rosette ignored this, pretending to be busy with work.

"Do you have some problem with your washing machine?" Ino asked suddenly, eyeing her clothes.

"Why do you ask?" Sakura questioned, slightly taken aback.

"It's just that, you are wearing the same clothes you wore yesterday. You've done it couple of times in the past three months."

Sakura stared at her friend for a few seconds. Her face was pale. "What are you implying Ino?" She asked finally, dropping a pencil on the table.

"I don't-, don't get me wrong, I am not implying-"

"You _know_ that _he_ returned from his first mission three months ago," Sakura accused, not feeling the need to refer to him as Sasuke, when both Ino and she knew who they were talking about.

"Yes, I am sorry, I-"

"And you know that we don't talk to each other. We don't even acknowledge each other on the streets," she pressed, wanting Ino to fully grasp this, not knowing, that at the same time, she was trying to assure herself how there was nothing going on between him and her.

"I know. As I said - I am sorry," the blonde stated, looking slightly defeated.

Sakura felt more sorry than she did when she entered the office.

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><p>When she sees him on the street, she adverts her look elsewhere, fully aware of the fact that he does the same. People in the shops laugh at her, maybe even at him, they gossip, they make fun of them, of her. But they know nothing, Sakura thinks. They are stupid, and dumb, and evil, and rude, and, and, <em>and-<em>

His shoulder brushes hers as he passes by, bags of ninja items in his hands. Fire explodes in the burning spot he touched.

_We don't even acknowledge each other on the streets._

Her own voice rings in her ears, and all of a sudden it feels so wrong, so bizzare not to say something to him, to pretend like he's a wall, to be a _stranger_. She swallows and blinks quickly, and hates herself for envying those shurikens in his hand and wishing that the same hand was now in her hair, just like it was, twenty or more hours ago before the morning came.

She wishes she could train with him like Naruto does, she wishes she could giggle like other girls who follow him and mess around, she wishes not to feel the need to strangle every woman Sasuke speaks to. And sometimes she smiles ironically, knowing that she has seen him in a way no other woman before her has, that he has experienced with her something only she could give to him. She smiles at her victory, but what's the victory when every time she leaves his apartment she's left feeling more empty, more dirty and more alone?

It's like a never ending circle, she's always in there and he only jumps in to see if she's in a line.

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><p>"You didn't come," he accused, speaking to her for the first time after, what seemed like, years, centuries maybe.<p>

They were on the training compounds, waiting for Naruto and the others to come. Sakura jumped at the sound of his voice, reminding herself, that yes, they were the only two people here and that yes, he said something to her.

"What?" She asked, bewildered.

"Before the mission," he said, annoyed that she was acting like she had no idea what he was talking about. "You always come."

"No, what I meant is, why would you ask me that? You never asked why I came," she said, in defending tone, completely sure that he could hear the beating of her heart too.

Sasuke didn't know why he asked either. He was so angry, so furious that day, he actually felt like provoking her and starting a fight with her. He didn't know why it felt so wrong not to have her there, but it was ironic, that at the same time, it felt so wrong to have her there. You couldn't have two things. Then he thought about getting used to her presence, her smell, getting used to opening door and letting her in, not asking nor questioning anything when she wrapped her arms around him. What if, for him, it became a habit and for her, it was just another way to spend free time?

Now, when he decided to be direct and ask, he was more confused than he was angry.

"Then why you came?" He sneered, covering his curiosity.

"I don't know," she replied honestly, pouring all of her desperation and insecurities out to him.

"Will you-"

"No."

"Whatever," he said, turning his back to her.

Sakura stared at the proud and scattered symbol of his clan, at that big part of his personality and who he is and was, and at the that moment, she felt the kind of hatred she never did before.

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><p>Two weeks later, when he comes back from a mission, he was immediately sent to her. The sight of his bloody arms and torso seems like something she can't handle, but Sakura knew better than that. And although he stared at her curiously, she said nothing. Her glowing hands moved against his skin, and not in a sensual way, like they did so many times when they were alone in his apartment, but in a caring way. Her teeth were gritted as she stared at his wounds, too scared to show that she was worried, but yet too angry not to say anything when he could have killed himself.<p>

Sasuke, on the other hand, studied her face, her concentrated eyes and a mixture of anger and sorrow he saw there. Her hands moved higher, pulling his black bangs away and she allowed herself to look at his eyes. The intensity of his look almost threw her away, and her eyes fell down to his lips, then moved as soon as she felt him shift. This action didn't go unnoticed by him, and all of a sudden Sakura spoke, slightly offended.

"You are angry," it was a statement, not a question.

Sasuke didn't answer. He gritted his teeth and stared past her, hoping that this will be over in few minutes. Sakura waited some more, then when nothing happened, for the first time in her life, she felt like she could slap him, _really_ slap him, and maybe get away with it. She jumped to her feet, cheeks red, eyes mad.

"I can't believe you're angry, when it was _you_ who has tried to kill _me_, and just having you sit here like I am the one who should feel guil-"

"You tried to kill me too, Sakura, so stop coming at me as if I am the only one to blame and playing a victim when you are at fault as much as I am," he snapped, something in him breaking in half at the sight of her finally shouting.

Sakura looked as if he slapped her. She actually looked, _felt_ sick. She felt hot water on her eyelashes before she blinked, but was too busy to even care about tears now.

"How do you even dare to compare it? You don't even care whether I am-"

"You were the one who started it Sakura, that night when you came to my apartment and-"

"And I was the one who ended it," she said stiffly, her trembling hands brushing the tears away. "You know why? Because for you, for you it was nothing to begin with, you would have killed me right then and there if Kakashi didn't come to rescue. But for me, it was a choice between Naruto and you!" She shouted, her body shaking, more because of anger and his lack of understanding of what she's been through.

Her sobs went quiet, and taking a step away from him, she looked at his eyes.

For the first time in her life, she felt as if Sasuke actually listened to her words, to what she's been trying to tell him. Perhaps she felt sorry for saying this, for making it harder for him, when he could be doing the same on his own. Perhaps, she did hurt him, because never before has Sasuke looked this tired, this lifeless, like he was ready to give up.

The way she was doing now.

He swayed on the spot some more, his face impassive, body rigid, before he sneered, "And you have made that choice, haven't you?" He bit out, fading image of kunai pressed against his heart coming out more vivid and alive in front of them.

Another tear fell from Sakura's eye.

"Yes," she said quietly. "Yes, I have."

This time it was her listening to his footsteps and this time, it was him who slammed the doors.

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><p>They avoided each other for a month exactly. It wasn't the best period of time each of them had. Passing next to him on the street made her feel guilty, passing by her on the street made him feel annoyed for some time.<br>She worked harder. It was like a formula, more work, less free time, less chances of seeing him. They couldn't avoid each other on team's gatherings of course. Sometimes, she felt his stare on her, curious but reserved eyes. She didn't know what he's been hoping to find and wasn't sure whether she had that something he's been looking for.

She stayed in touch with all of the rookies, because they sometimes went on missions with him. She asked them about him. How he's doing. Was there something new going on in his life. Or someone. She would feel silly when she did that, pathetic even. He knew all of this, she was sure, they probably mentioned it to him. When he entered the village and went to hokage tower to give his report, she could see him from the window of her office. Although, she wasn't sure if he knew that she was looking.

But he did. He always did.

At times when she would drink sake, or go home late at night, she wondered if there was someone else who drops by his apartment. She wondered if he would let that somebody else in and allow that girl to pull him to her the way she used to. She has considered going to his place multiple times, not saying anything and just wrapping her arms around him. She passed by his street so many times she actually lost a count. She might have knocked. But Sakura was proud too.

When they ate at Ichiraku, it's always her who has to sit next to him. Their hands would brush as they ate but they said nothing. They didn't mention anything.

It was only in the middle of a rainy night, when she put the book on her table and got ready to lay down, when she heard a knock.

At first, her heart snapped with that small piece of hope, that stupid, miniature but strong part of her that always beat fast whenever she thought of Sasuke. She scolded herself as she pulled her nightgown on, and slowly opened the door.

And then, her heart stopped altogether with her breathing. Her eyes were prickling, lips trembling. She licked them.

Sasuke's hair was wet from standing in the rain, his clothes dripping, and eyes so tense, so vivid and so heartbreakingly beautiful she couldn't seem to stop a painful tug of her heart.

"Why?" She asked desperately, holding onto those eyes, or any word that he could mutter here and now.

Sasuke sighed quietly, swallowing at the sight of her sad expression.

"I don't know," he said in such an exhausting and breathless way, repeating her own words, that she simply had to pull him in.

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><p>He changes his thrusts from fast and breaking ones to slow and torturous ones, like he knows it's killing her. It's almost as if he wants to see her <em>beg<em>. This time, however, his head is not hidden in her silky hair, it's right above her, watching her face twist in pleasure, staring, memorizing. Her eyes half-closed, cheeks sweaty, colored with tints of pink, either because of embarrassment or enjoyment, her teeth biting her lower lip as she whimpers. Her nails dig into his shoulders and she moves with him, groaning with frustration when he changes the pace so that she can't follow him. This lasts longer than the previous times.

He bows down, pressing his warm lips against her neck, pushing the image of his hands grasping this delicate part of her body away. He licks, and kisses again, and brushes that part of her hot skin, hoping that she'd understand, that she'd get how this time his intention of touching her there is not to strangle or kill her. He apologizes. But Sakura doesn't see, she's way too beyond the horizon, lost in the pleasure of all the feelings mixing inside of her, of all the feelings he caused and she digs her nails deeper into his skin to prevent herself from pulling his head closer to hers, pressing her lips against his. His hands are everywhere and they leave a burning sensation on each part he touches, he brushes the scar on her stomach and he feels guilt and sorrow somewhere in the depth of his abdomen, but he doesn't question how she got it, where she got it. Instead, he moves with more tenderness, touching all the little and big scars gently, pressing his lips against them.

"Sasuke, does this mean-?" She tries to ask but he slams harder, breaking her sentence as she whimpers loudly, pulling at his hair.

"Nothing," he grunts. "It means nothing," and before tears can fall, he bows down, pushing his lips against hers for the first time, in such a tender and soft way, she almost melts. As he presses and pulls at her lower lip, his hands at her hips, she lets a tear or few fall. She grips black strands harder, holds onto him, and she kisses him back, moving her hips in the same motion he does, and in the back of her room, in that sweaty bed, where their bodies lay pressed to each other, his mischievous dark eyes staring sensually at hers, she realizes what it's all about and lets out a quiet sob.

It's got to mean _something_.

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><p><em>AN: I don't know what's with angst and me lately. Any thoughts about this piece?_


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